


Dream a little dream of me

by Charlie_Bb



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Crack, Christmas Eve, Dumb Derek, Fairies, Fairies are evil creatures did you know that?, M/M, Merry Xmas yeah right, Mr & Mrs Santa, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer - Freeform, Santa Claus - Freeform, The Hale Family, even dumber Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_Bb/pseuds/Charlie_Bb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had all started with a frantic call from Scott. <br/>Stiles had picked up the phone and tried to make sense out of his best friend incoherent babbling – but he’d failed, of course, because Scott couldn’t even slow down to a language he could understand, he was that agitated. <br/>So, Stiles had had to go pick him up, right at the edge of the old preserve, and he had found out Scott had a very good reason to be this freaking scared. <br/>Fairies. <br/>In Beacon freaking Hills. <br/>Of course, they had run to Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream a little dream of me

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Xmas everyone!  
> Okay, so, on Christmas Day I thought of writing a little one shot to celebrate with you all. I ended up writing *this* instead. A bit of crack here and there, add a bunch of fairy magic and Christmas decorations et voilà, les jeux sont fait.  
> I had a very blurred idea at first, so me and my adorable flatmate wrote down some stuff on little pieces of paper. I picked three: Rudolph, Fairies and Spell. You can figure out the rest. 
> 
> The title doesn't belong to me, of course, and I've taken it from the homonymous song (which I love, a lot).
> 
> Un-beta'd, so forgive me for the mistakes. Hope you like it, and Merry Xmas again <3

It had all started with a frantic call from Scott.

Stiles had picked up the phone and tried to make sense out of his best friend incoherent babbling – but he’d failed, of course, because Scott couldn’t even slow down to a language he could understand, he was that agitated.

So, Stiles had had to go pick him up, right at the edge of the old preserve, and he had found out Scott had a very good reason to be this freaking scared.

Fairies.

In Beacon freaking Hills.

Of course, they had run to Derek.

 

*

 

“Look, I know this is not what we all were looking forward to,” Stiles said as he started to walk in circle again. “D’you think I wanted to spend the night staking out a bunch of goddamn fairies? I’ll give you a hint, answer’s no.”

Stiles sighed heavily and crashed down, sitting on the cold floor of the abandoned warehouse. Derek looked right at him, arms crossed on his chest and brows furrowed. He didn’t exactly look angry, Stiles noticed, more like totally unhappy of being there.

Not that he could blame him, of course. He too wasn’t that eager to spend Christmas Eve in a lonely and dusty place with Derek, for fuck’s sake. He wanted to spend the night at home, with coloured decorations and a tree taller than himself, eating candies while watching TV comfortably lying on the couch. His dad was working until late that night, so Stiles would have probably spent the evening alone, but that wasn’t too much of a problem.

Only, his plans were completely ruined. Hence, the warehouse.

“Then go, if you hate this so badly,” Derek stated. He turned his back on him, and all that Stiles could see were his tensed shoulders. “You know I don’t need your help.”

“You don’t need my help?” Stiles laughed and shook his head. “Dude, you’d be dead already, and many many times, if it weren’t for me. Face it, you need me to save your furry ass. Besides, I can’t really leave you alone on Christmas Eve, can I? You’d end up all by yourself, doing nothing but getting depressed because that’s what you usually do.”

“Stiles.”

Stiles laughed out loud and jumped on his feet. He didn’t need to see Derek’s face to know what expression was painted on it. He was probably doing that thing with his eyes, all flashing blue and hard, and his nose was surely all crinkled, as every time Derek put on an angry face. Figures.

“Yeah, yeah, no need to growl, big guy,” Stiles chuckled as he approached him and stood in front of the window. “Any movements yet?”

“Nothing.” Derek shook his head and sighed. He rubbed his eyes with his hands and yawned once. He was tired, Stiles could see it. His eyes were circled with dark shades and they had lost their sparkle, that peculiar light Stiles had always admired Derek for.

He looked older somehow, drained of all energy, and all because of what? Weeks and weeks of hunting werewolves’ packs down, to get them out of Beacon Hills.

Not that that town had ever had a quiet life, but it seemed like things were getting worse, as if every single supernatural creature had nothing better to do than come to Beacon Hills to challenge the Alpha. It was exhausting, really, and Derek and Scott had had to deal with a lot of crap in the last few months.

“Will there ever be a peaceful moment in this stupid town, I wonder,” Stiles muttered under his breath. He felt Derek’s body tense for a second before relaxing again with a sigh.

“Probably not. You could leave, you know. Leave all this behind. Bet your father would appreciate it.”

“Are you nuts?” Stiles turned to look at him, but Derek’s eyes were pointed elsewhere, on the preserve not far from the building they were hiding in. “You really think I could just leave?”

“Couldn’t you?”

Stiles rolled his eyes and bit his tongue hard so not to start insulting Derek, even though he deserved it. Badly.

“What’s wrong with you.” Stiles walked the room until he found a dark little spot as far from Derek as he could, then he sat down on the cold floor once again. The night had just started and it was already going great.

Derek was doing that thing again, the thing when he just pushed people away for no apparent reason. Stiles had thought they were over it by now, that Derek had finally understood that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard Derek would try to keep him away.

Point was, Stiles had thought of leaving, once. Going away somewhere safe, in some small town that wasn’t completely infested with creatures from nightmares. It would have been nice for a change, to live without the constant fear of getting brutally murdered. His dad would’ve surely appreciated.

Only, Stiles hadn’t left that one time he’d thought he wanted to. He hadn’t left because of Scott, because his best friend needed him so badly, and in the end all that supernatural crap had just become a part of him, a strong thread tangled in the complicated fabric of his life.

And seriously, after all they had been through together, how could he just leave?

Derek, though, didn’t seem to get it. It felt like he couldn’t understand why people wanted to stay and fight instead of running away as fast as they could, like he couldn’t get the point of the whole thing.

Derek felt like he didn’t deserve people around him, good people, friends.

Stiles had tried to make him understand, oh had he tried, but Derek was too obtuse that way. Not that Stiles had ever stopped trying, anyway.

“I see something.”

Stiles shook his thoughts away and walked towards Derek again, keeping a little bit of distance so that stupid werewolf would understand that he was still pissed at him. He looked out of the window into the cold, dark night Beacon Hills had to offer and he couldn’t see a thing at first. It was just too dark outside; street lampposts were all turned off in that part of town, and it was hard to distinguish anything, even trees shadows. Stiles looked harder and let his eyes getting used to the complete absence of light, then he saw it too.

There was something in the woods, something that carried a little light with it while running through the thick pattern of leaves and branches.

“Is that…?”

“A fairy, yes,” Derek nodded. Stiles couldn’t help but open his mouth in wonder at that.

“Wow, I’ve never seen a fairy before,” he said, and he realized maybe his voice was a bit too dreamy. He cleared his throat and said, “It’s important we get to know about as many creatures as we can. We could add it to the Bestiary.”

“You don’t wanna see a fairy at a close range, trust me,” Derek said, his voice low and serious.

“Why? They don’t seem that bad, or at least that’s what Scott said.” Stiles looked at Derek for a brief moment before turning again to the street and woods outside. “He said they’re nice creatures, maybe a little bit too playful for his tastes.”

Derek shook his head, his eyes now an electric blue as he stared at the feeble movement not too far from the warehouse. “They must’ve deceived him somehow, with magic. Fairies aren’t nice creatures, Stiles; they’re tall, and ugly, and terribly mischievous. They usually don’t even bother on deceiving others, they appear just as they are, don’t know why they didn’t with Scott.”

“We should find out, then,” Stiles said.

Derek nodded once before turning around and heading towards the door at a fast pace. Stiles cursed under his breath and followed him outside, where the cold air hit him like a slap in the face.

Derek looked back at him just once before crossing the road that separated them from the woods and then started running, leaving Stiles a few feet behind, trying to catch up. Derek was silent and fast as a wolf in the woods, his footsteps quiet on the leaves carpeted floor. Stiles, of course, wasn’t that lucky, all creaking noises beneath his feet, branches cutting his face and breaking at his passing through.

He could still see that small light moving, way ahead of them. It was moving fast and steady, a silent flame in the night.

Derek turned to look at him once again, his eyes blue and scary; he gave him a look so hard Stiles almost felt guilty, for Derek was silently scolding him for his being so damn loud. But he couldn’t help it, could he? He wasn’t a goddamn werewolf, for fuck’s sake. So he just shrugged and kept on moving, trying to keep Derek in his sight.

After what seemed like an eternity Derek stopped all of a sudden, in the middle of the southern part of the preserve.

Trees were sparse at that point, only a few growing here and there as if planted by someone who had no idea of what he was doing. Stiles was glad of the change, anyway. It meant he could actually see something around him that wasn’t stupid branches and cold leaves.

Derek put a finger on his mouth as to tell him to make no sound at all, and Stiles tried to oblige. He stood there, as still as a statue, only a few feet from where Derek was standing, and he waited. He had no idea of what sounds Derek was picking up with his supernatural hearing, but he was pretty sure it was something important. Derek was with no doubt a stupid, grumpy were, but he was damn good when it came down to his powers.

It was in that moment that the chanting began.

At first, it was nothing but a soft, distant humming, as if someone was crossing the woods hundreds of feet away from them. Then, it grew louder and louder, and closer too. Stiles could feel the frantic beats of his own heart drumming in his ears while a cold fear grew within him. He knew that fear so well, he was familiar with it by now, for he had felt it many many times since the supernatural had poisoned his life.

But he knew better than to let the fear take over him.

So he stepped forward, slowly, and reached Derek in few long seconds. Derek glanced at him for a moment, not turning away from the darkness ahead. Stiles could feel the tension in his body as if it was his own, and a tense Derek was never a good sign. Nor was a growling Derek, for what mattered, and Stiles had to admit Derek looked pretty scary with his fangs out like that.

“Is that…?”

“It is. Now, shut up.”

Stiles closed his mouth with a snap and followed with his eyes that small light moving not far from them, now.

And the fairies came out of the woods, tall and shiny and beautiful, skinny bodies and lovely features, and Stiles couldn’t understand why Derek was so scared of them, really, they looked just so beautiful and peaceful, and –

 

*

 

Derek slowly opened his eyes to a bitter cold penetrating through his bones.

He sat up and looked around him at the view he knew so well. Every house roof was covered in white, fluffy snow, every tree looked as the ones from Christmas postcards. Everything was so damn Christmassy in Beacon Hills, and Derek almost smiled at that.

But then he remembered they never had snow in Beacon Hills. Not even on Christmas. It was California, it never snowed in California.

Still, everything was covered in white.

“Is everything okay, dearie?”

Derek shook his head and turned, only to find an old lady looking at him curiously. She looked nice, her hair all grey and tied up in a tight bun, dark red coat matching the red dress she was wearing.

“Uhm,” Derek cleared his throat and slowly got up, careful not to fall down again in the snow. “I think so? Where am I?”

He knew that was a stupid question. There was no way he could not recognize his own hometown, even if it looked different, white as it was. It was just… it didn’t seem right, all that snow. And how the hell had he ended up lying out there, near the entrance to the preserve?

“You’re home, dearie,” the old lady replied with a soft smile. “I think you must’ve passed out, that’s what I think. Why the heck would you go out dressed like that these days, I wonder. You must be so cold.”

Derek looked down at his clothing only to find there was nothing wrong with it. He was wearing his usual jeans and t-shirt, and his usual leather jacket. It hadn’t been that cold when he’d put those things on, that same morning. No, the weather had been warmer than it was now, he remembered that.

“Come inside, I’ll make you a nice cup of hot chocolate.”

And without waiting for a reply, the old lady started to walk away, across the road and right down the street. She stopped a few times to make sure he was following her, and Derek was. Not that he had better things to do, hadn’t he? Besides, he was freezing. He could really use a cup of chocolate.

The old lady stopped in front of a nice terraced house where a garland was hanging around the doorknob, and opened the door; she stepped inside and turned at him again with a smile, waiting for him to come inside.

Derek looked at the garland for another moment or two, and he had this feeling like he was forgetting something. He had a feeling like he was in the wrong place, too, and he had no idea why. He had no idea of where else he was supposed to be at Christmas Eve if not in his hometown. That was his place, wasn’t it? Then why, why did he feel like he didn’t belong there? It must’ve been the cold, or a principle of freezing, that’s what it was.

Derek shook those thoughts out of his mind and followed the nice old lady inside the house. She led him through a parlour and into a nice kitchen; a smell of gingerbread cookies surrounded the whole house like a spicy embrace and Derek breathed it in with a smile. He loved gingerbread cookies, and the old lady didn’t disappoint him when she placed a tray on the table right in front of him.

“Eat, young man. Cocoa will be ready in a minute.”

“Thanks.”

Derek chopped off a gingerbread man’s head, and he found that one the very best cookie he’d ever eaten in his whole life. The little man had candies for eyes, a coloured smile made of icing and other candy buttons on his body. It looked adorable, and tasted like heaven.

“Here, let’s get you warm,” the lady said as she placed a hot steaming cup next to him. She sat down in the opposite chair and looked at him with satisfaction as he drank up half the chocolate in a few generous sips.

“You are one of the Hale boys, aren’t you, darling?” she asked, and Derek nodded. He couldn’t say why, but the mention of his family made him feel a bit sad. Only, he had no reason to be. They all lived in the big family house in the preserve, like they’d always done; his family had been living there for generations, his grandparents before him and his mother and father, and so on.

“Thought so,” the lady smiled. “You look just like Talia. And maybe a little bit like Richard. But mostly, you’re your mother’s mirror. You know, I saw them earlier this morning, at the supermarket down the road. They were talking to Mr Santa, I think.”

Derek nodded, it was highly possible his mother had been talking to old Santa earlier that day. Talia always talked to Santa every time they met, even more on Christmas Eve. Mrs Santa always gave them those marvellous cookies, every year, a few days before Christmas; she always made the cookies herself, following an old recipe she’d found nobody knew where. Mrs Santa’s cookies were the best, and Laura and Cora always tried to eat more than everyone else in the house.

“Thank you, Mrs Cane,” Derek said after he’d drunk up the chocolate in his cup. He wondered how he had forgotten her name, that was stupid. Again, maybe passing out in the snow had done him some light damage. “I should be going. Don’t want my mother to worry about me.”

“Oh, of course, dearie,” Mrs Cane said as she stood up after him. She took some kitchen foil and wrapped some cookies, handing him the package. “Here, take these to your brothers and sisters. Say hello to your parents for me, will you? I’ll see you all at the Town Hall tomorrow, for the recital.”

“Sure. Thanks, Mrs Cane.”

Derek bid her goodbye and left her house. He started walking at a fast pace towards the city centre, but not even the long walk would warm him up properly. He hoped one of his parents was still downtown for some late shopping, and knowing them, well, there was a good chance his father would still be at the mall. He always forgot to buy a proper present for his mother, he could never make it in time. Usually, he ended up buying her a ‘forgive-me’ gift after having bought her some stupid thing for the house. She would always forgive him, anyway, so all was good.

As he walked past the high school, Derek noticed all the lampposts were already turned on. Christmas decorations were amazing as always, trees all lighted up and garnish everywhere. The whole town looked coloured and cheerful, just like every year.

“’Morning, Sheriff,” Derek saluted as he walked by Sheriff Stilinski and his beautiful wife. They both smiled at him, wished him a merry Christmas and got on with their shopping. They were always smiling, those two; Derek had never seen them crossed at each other, or unhappy, or grumpy with anyone. They were just… well, a happy couple. A very happy couple.

Derek felt like something was missing, though. Like there was something wrong with John and Claudia Stilinski.

It was the same feeling as before, or it was maybe a little stronger. Some sort of sadness squeezing his heart, but there was no reason for it.

There was no reason for him to be sad when thinking about his family, or about Mr and Mrs Stilinski. Everything was just as it had always been, but then why would he feel like this? Why would he feel… empty? Something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t figure out what. Maybe it was nothing, just a stupid, meaningless feeling.

Derek finally reached the mall and stepped inside, enjoying the warm air for a change. He was sure his father was going to be there, so he started looking out for him at every shop he thought Richard would be going.

 

*

 

Family dinner was over, and all of the Hales older than sixteen were gathered in the big living room, on chairs and couches in front of the crackling fire. Talia had cooked a superb dinner as always, and everybody had enjoyed the meal as they always did.

Derek loved those family dinners. Everyone would sit around a table and eat and chat for hours, laughing and talking out loud. True, his family was a bit crowded, and the house those days was busier than ever, with his Uncle and Aunt staying over for the holidays. But he loved it. It made him feel warm inside.

Now that feeling was somehow amplified, as if he had been missing it for a long, long time.

It had been a long day, and maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was getting sick, that could explain why he had been feeling weird all day.

“Right, we’re off to bed.”

Derek put his thoughts on pause for a while and looked up at his parents from the couch he was lying on. Richard and Talia looked tired but extremely happy, with big smiles on their beautiful faces. Richard got Laura in his arms and kissed her forehead while she kept on sleeping peacefully.

“You too should go to sleep, honey,” Talia said as she gently touched her brother’s arm to wake him up from the light sleep he’d fallen in. “Put out the fire before you go?”

“Will do, Mom,” Derek replied. He closed his eyes when she kissed him on his cheek and then kissed her back. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Talia caressed his hair and smiled again. “Don’t stay up too late, you know Mr Santa doesn’t like that too much.”

“Yeah, just five more minutes.”

Derek watched them all go upstairs, his parents and relatives, and the living room fell into a comfortable silence. He was all alone in front of the warm fire now, with no other voices to disturb his thoughts again.

There was something he was missing, a detail he couldn’t recall. It felt like everything was strange in Beacon Hills, but at the same time everything was just the same. He couldn’t explain it; it was like there was a hole inside of him where something else should be. Someone, maybe.

It wasn’t just that. All day he had just walked around town, waving hellos to people and kind of expecting something to happen at any moment. Or, he had the feeling like he was expecting to see someone else, too.

Life was as usual, but it felt too slow, too, well, dead-ish.

It was like something at the back of his mind, a thought he couldn’t make clear, a word stuck in his throat. A name.

Maybe he was just going crazy. That was a possible explanation.

Derek tried to remember what he had been doing that morning, for the nth time that day. Every time he’d thought about it, he’d felt like there was a thought hiding in his mind, slipping away from him at every attempt of getting it back.

He remembered something blurred, the preserve, something dark, too. The more he’d thought of what had happened, the more he’d gotten a feeling of cold fear, as if he had been scared about something. It didn’t feel like he had been scared for himself, though. More like there was someone else, out there, he had been wanting to protect no matter what.

“Up past bedtime, are we?”

Derek quickly turned around. He found the impressive figure of Mr Santa standing in the middle of his living room, staring at him with an intense look in his icy-blue eyes.

“Sorry?”

“Ha, no need to be.” Santa laughed and walked towards him, carrying what looked like a heavy sack full of presents. He sat on a comfortable chair next to him and smiled behind the spectacles, his beard glowing in the dim-light.

“What’s the matter with you, son?”

Derek lowered his eyes and let out a small sigh. “Wish I knew, Santa. Guess I’m just out of phase today.”

“Nonsense,” Santa said in that low, vibrant voice of his. “No one can be out of phase on Christmas. It’s unconstitutional. Wanna tell me what’s troubling you?”

“Not sure I can,” Derek quickly replied. Then he added, “’cause I’m not sure what it is exactly. I just feel like I’m not myself, it’s hard to explain. It’s like-“

“Like there’s something missing to the picture, yeah, I get that.” Santa smiled again, this time in a more serious way. He stretched his arm toward the coffee table, then grabbed a couple of cookies Cora and Jamie had left out for him. He took the glass of milk too, and for a few moments the house was silent again, the only noise Santa’s chewing the treats.

“Have you been naughty or nice, Derek Hale?” he asked out of the blue, and Derek looked at him curiously. Santa always knew if anybody had been nice or not, he even had a list of the naughty boys and girls in the whole world, that’s the way it was. So he must’ve known Derek had behaved, like every other year past.

“Nice, I think.”

“Is there anything that makes you doubt about it?”

Derek stared back at Santa and shook his head. “Not really. Only… I’m not sure.”

“Have you been good to your family?”

“Yes,” Derek quickly replied. He lowered his eyes and met Santa’s red outfit, all warm and Christmassy; he tried to remember everything of the past year and he got flashes, moments spent with his mother and father, all those moments his younger siblings had driven him crazy. He had never done anything wrong, not to them. But those moments, oh, those moments felt distant, like a dream. Just like they belonged to someone else’s life and not his.

“Anything you might regret?”

When Derek looked up again, Santa’s expression was quiet and calm. It was the expression of someone who knew more than he admitted, but wasn’t judging anyway. Derek couldn’t recall any moment he would regret, and then the images started.

Out of focus, blurry images of bad things happening all around him. Blood. Dead bodies piling up one after another.

“What –“ Derek shut his eyes closed and rubbed them with his hands, trying to make those images stop. “What is going on?”

“You are a good guy, Derek Hale,” Santa said in a low steady voice. “You might sometimes not look it, but you are. It’s Christmas already, I might as well give you your present now.”

“What –“

Derek fell silent when Santa kissed his forehead. Then he drew away with a sad smile, left a few wrapped packages under the decorated tree and took another cookie before walking through the room without another word. When he reached the door to the kitchen he turned around one last time.

“Remember, Derek. It’s the only way.”

“The only way for what? Remember what exactly?”

But Santa had already vanished, and Derek was alone again. He jumped on his feet and walked to the window to look outside, where a heavy snow was already covering the ground in white. The night was dark, but there was a little red light somewhere above his head, and when Derek looked up he saw Santa’s sleigh silently take off, nine beautiful reindeers taking it up in the sky. The red light of Rudolph’s nose slowly faded away as the sleigh drove up and up above, and Derek walked back to his couch.

What was it that he should remember? And what were those scary images from a nightmare? He’d never seen that much blood in his whole life. And dead people, God, there were dead people everywhere, and he just couldn’t take it.

Had Santa done something to him? No, it was impossible. Santa was just an old man who’d been bringing kids presents since the dawn of time, he wasn’t a bad guy. Whatever he had done to him, it must’ve been for Derek’s own good.

What the hell was going on, then?

 

*

 

When Derek woke up the following morning, he whispered a name.

Scott.

Scott McCall.

He knew that kid, they had been through a lot together. Why hadn’t he remembered him earlier? Scott had been a part of his life for the past few years, how could he just forget him?

By the time Derek got ready for breakfast he remembered something else. Someone else.

Lydia. And Allison. And Isaac, too.

They were all part of his life, those guys. But where were they now? He hadn’t seen them in town the day before. Maybe they were just spending Christmas with their own families.

Except for, well. Allison was dead. Her father had moved out of Beacon Hills not too long time before. And Isaac, oh, Isaac didn’t have any family left to take care of him, that’s why he’d moved out with Chris.

Lydia was still there, Derek was sure of that. She must’ve been. And Scott, Scott was probably going to spend Christmas with his mother, and maybe his father was going to be there as well. He had to find him.

Derek didn’t know why, but he felt the urge to talk to Scott. It was important that they’d meet, they had to talk about something, it was a matter of… well, a matter of life and death, really.

But what was?

“Honey, are you feeling alright? You look pale.”

Derek shook his head and gave his mother a smile. “I’m fine, Mom. I just… I need to go meet some friends, later. Is that okay?”

Talia smiled back at him and nodded. “Sure. When lunch will be done.”

 

*

 

Derek turned the Camaro’s engine back on and drove away.

He had been sitting in his car for a good hour looking at the McCall’s house. He had seen people inside, a coloured and bright Christmas tree placed in the living room.

Only, the McCalls didn’t live there.

There was a family instead, a family he had never seen before. No sign of Scott, or Melissa. That was impossible, they had been living there for as long as he could remember. Maybe they had moved out, but Scott would have at least told him, right? True, they weren’t exactly friends, not as far as it concerned Scott anyway, but Derek was sure he would’ve known if Scott had moved somewhere else. Stiles would’ve told him, for sure, with his usual babblings and –

Stiles.

Stiles Stilinski.

Probably the most annoying kid in the entire universe.

He had forgotten him. How?

Stiles wasn’t that easy to forget, was he? He was hyperactive, and annoying, and sometimes Derek couldn’t understand a word he’d say, but Stiles wasn’t a guy to forget.

He was… well, he was always there, for instance, always babbling things Derek couldn’t bring himself to listen to. Stiles was always there whenever they needed to stake out some things, with his grin in the right place, driving his beloved (but very old and not highly functioning) Jeep.

Stiles had saved his life in more than one occasion. And Derek had just forgotten him, wiped him out of existence for God knew what reason.

Truth be told, Stiles was unbearable sometimes. No one seemed able to keep up with him, ever, and there had been moments when Derek had only wanted to punch him hard in the face to make him shut the hell up. But there had also been moments when Derek had been glad to have him by his side, for Stiles was one of the very best human beings he’d ever met.

Stiles was caring, and selfless, and loyal. He valued his friends more than his own life, and that was going to get him in trouble for sure. And, well, Derek liked him enough to stop himself from smashing his stupid face against whatever surface he could find.

Derek hadn’t felt guilty when he’d found out he had forgotten all about Lydia, or Allison, or Isaac; he had felt a little bit worse when he’d discovered he had forgotten all about Scott, they had more in common than Scott was eager to admit after all.

Forgetting Stiles had made him feel like his whole world had just crumbled down beneath his feet.

 

*

 

When the door opened a good-looking old lady smiled cordially at him.

“Good morning, Mrs Santa,” Derek said as he tried to smile back. “Merry Christmas.”

“And to you, dearie.”

“Is Mr Santa home?” Derek quickly asked, hoping in a positive response. When Mrs Santa nodded he exhaled and added, “I know it’s Christmas Day and he’ll be really tired, but can I see him? I need to talk to him about something.”

“Oh, well.” Mrs Santa looked hesitant for a moment or two, but then she took a second look at him and who knows, maybe she saw something that changed her mind for she smiled again and moved from the door, silently inviting him to come in.

Once inside, Derek closed the door behind him and waited in the colourful parlour, surrounded everywhere by Christmas decorations.

“I’ll go call him, you wait here a moment, dear.”

“Thank you.”

Derek stood in the middle of the room and looked around. Everything was familiar to him, he felt like he knew that place so well after all the times he had paid visits to Mr and Mrs Santa. But at the same time, everything seemed wrong, like it wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.

What the hell was wrong with him? First, he had forgotten his friends and now this – this feeling of being a stranger in his own hometown.

“Santa,” Derek exclaimed as soon as the old man walked in. “Santa, please, I need to talk to you.”

“And Merry Christmas to you too, son.”

“Sorry. Merry Christmas.”

“Ha, that’s much better. Now, Mrs Santa told me you wanted to talk to me about something?”

Derek nodded. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it, it was difficult to explain something he didn’t really know. He looked into Santa’s eyes, nice and warm and so clear, and he took a deep breath.

“Santa, I think I’m going crazy.”

“I know. Must be the pudding!”

Derek couldn’t help but laugh. “No,” he said, “no, I… something weird is happening, and I don’t know what it is.”

“And you came to me for help?”

When Derek nodded, Santa gave him a thoughtful look. Then he smiled, took his coat from the hanger and opened the front door, heading outside.

“Here, let’s go see if all the reindeers are okay.”

Derek looked at him, then at the parlour. He wasn’t sure Santa had gotten it right, maybe he hadn’t. Maybe old age was coming for him too.

But he followed. He didn’t know what else to do, anyway.

They walked in silence to the back of the house, where the stables were. Derek followed Santa inside and the familiar smell of animals welcomed him; he took a look around and eight reindeers peeked out from the huge boxes. He smiled at them as he walked past them, one by one, calling them all by name and petting them slowly.

“They like you, you know?” Santa said with a laugh before sitting down on a stool in front of the last box. “Even this little guy, here.”

Derek laughed too when he spotted Rudolph’s nose shining of a feeble red light. He came closer and slowly stretched his hand toward the reindeer, giving it time to smell it. Rudolph had always been the shy one, Derek remembered, the only reindeer that wouldn’t trust anybody.

But Rudolph trusted him, and slowly touched his hand with its snout.

“Hello to you too, my friend.”

“Here.” Santa handed another stool to him and Derek took it, sitting down on it. It didn’t seem too steady but it had to do.

“Now, son, why don’t you tell me what it’s really going on with you.”

“I wish I knew,” Derek sighed heavily. “It’s… everything seems to be wrong, but it’s not. I am here, exactly where I’ve always been, but it feels like that’s not true. Everything in my past feels like a dream, and now… I have forgotten people, Santa. Friends I have. I woke up yesterday and they were just gone, I had no memory of them. And I don’t know how it’s possible, I mean, I care about them. True, we have our ups and downs, but I care. Do you think I’m mad?”

Santa let out a soft laugh and caressed his hair, slowly. “Oh, my dear boy, you are definitely not mad.”

“Then what is it? What’s going on?”

“I told you to remember, didn’t I? That’s the only way. You must remember, Derek Hale. You must _wake up_.”

Derek jumped on the spot. “What did you say?”

“I said you must remember.”

“No, after that,” Derek said. He knew he probably looked frantic, but he couldn’t care. “You said I must – I thought I heard –“

“My sweet boy,” Santa smiled and took Derek’s hand in his. “I know it’s not easy, but you’re going to make it, I promise. Remember, Derek, and everything will be alright.”

“I remember my friends. I remember… blood, and death. I just don’t know what –“

“It’ll come to you,” said Santa. “You must wake up, now.”

“You said it again, you –“

“Nonsense. I said you must go back, now. Bet your family is waiting for you.”

 

*

 

“Wake up!”

“Stiles –“

“Wake up, Derek, _wake up!_ ”

“Stiles, stop!”

Scott took his friend by his shoulders and tried to keep him away from the sofa around which they were all gathered. Lydia let out a small sigh and rubbed her eyes once more that night. She was tired, they all were, but Stiles acted like he’d lost his mind.

“Jeez, Stiles, calm down,” Scott said as he let him go. Stiles gave him a hurt look and turned around. He walked to the window and let his gaze wander outside on the view he knew so well. Everything seemed exactly the same in Beacon Hills, fairies being nothing but a nightmare they all just wanted to forget.

Truth was, it wasn’t. The town was maybe the same, and there was no sign of the fairies now, but something had changed. In a matter of seconds, really, and now it was nothing but a mess they were all in together.

“How can you tell me to calm down,” Stiles said, his voice rising. “He’s unconscious, for fuck’s sake! Did you notice that? Derek’s been unconscious for more than an hour now, how the hell should I calm down.”

Scott and Lydia exchanged a worried look, and when he was about to reply Lydia stepped forward, slowly, to approach Stiles.

“Look, I know it’s not easy,” she said in a low voice, hand stretched out. “But there’s nothing we can do now, Stiles. We’ve called Deaton already, we just need to wait.”

“I can’t just sit on my hands while he’s like this!” Stiles shouted. He looked at Derek again; it seemed like he was asleep, all peaceful and dreamy. He couldn’t stand it. “He risked his ass to save mine, Lydia. Like he always does, for every single one of us. Don’t you think we at least owe him something?”

“We do, and I promise you we’re doing everything we can.”

“Oh, so everything we can do is call Deaton and wait, that’s nice.” Stiles sighed and walked away from her, from her hand; he walked back to the couch and sat there, right next to Derek’s body. “It’s my fault if he’s in this state. I need to do something or I’ll lose my mind.”

Lydia shook her head at Scott’s attempt to reach Stiles, and moved a couple of steps in his direction.

“I know,” she said softly. “I know.”

Stiles took his head in his hands and shook it. How could she know? She had no idea of who Derek really was, and neither did Scott. They knew nothing about him, they didn’t know how selfless he could be. They’d never seen it that way, it had been just easier to picture him like the bad guy. Stiles had done that same mistake at first, but he had had at least the decency to recognize how wrong he’d been.

“The fairies did something to him, I know that,” Stiles said. “I just don’t know what.”

“You said there was some sort of chanting?” Lydia asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t recognize the words. I don’t think it was English.”

“It could’ve been another language, for all we know.”

“It was more like…” Stiles paused for a moment to recall the sound he’d heard earlier that night. It wasn’t easy to explain, it was more than just a sound. “More like some kind of buzzing, maybe, but it was delicate and musical. Oh, God, this makes no sense.”

“No, I think it actually does.”

Lydia jumped on her feet and gave him and Scott one of her scariest looks.

“I might have read something in a book,” she said. She took her car keys and rushed to the door. “Be right back. Who knows I might find that book again, I think I still have it.”

Stiles wanted to tell her something but she was gone before he could even think of what to say. That girl was amazing, he had been no mistaken in having a crush on her for all those years. She was definitely a girl worth having a super crush on.

Maybe that book of her could really help. Stiles turned to look at Derek only to find there was no change, he was still deep asleep. He looked peaceful, really, and vulnerable. Stiles had never seen him like this before, and he had to admit it was nice.

Derek looked calm, and nice for a change. No barking orders, no flashing eyes, just… Derek.

“Look, buddy, we’re gonna find something,” Scott told him in a low voice. Stiles almost laughed.

“Yeah, hope so.”

“Yeah, we –“ Scott stopped and looked at him as if Stiles had just grown another head. “You haven’t told him, have you? I thought tonight was the night!”

“I thought so too, okay, but then.”

Stiles got up again and started to walk in circle. He knew he’d made a big mistake in telling Scott about his crush on Derek, but he had needed someone to talk to so badly. Scott, of course, had started harassing him, asking him when he was going to tell Derek.

Only, Stiles had never really been ready for that. Dealing with the thing was easy when nobody was around, it was even getting easy to stay in the same room with Derek without wanting to die so to conceal it from him. The mere thought of telling Derek, well, that had always been unbearable.

It was just… Stiles had no idea what it was. A crush? Probably. But maybe it was something different; maybe he had started growing fond of the sourwolf without even noticing. Which made no sense because, come on, Derek wasn’t really that easy to get along with. But neither was Stiles.

They had more in common than they were ready to admit, which was something already. And all the shit they had been feeding each other, all the bad words and the fights… they had never really meant it, Stiles knew that. He knew Derek wasn’t only the tough guy he showed to the world; he knew there was more to him than just a neurotic werewolf. He knew Derek was hurt, badly hurt, and it wasn’t easy for him to let people close again. Takes one to know one.

“Oh, why didn’t you tell him already and got it over with?” Scott asked. “I mean, what could have possibly happened? Worst case scenario, he would’ve turned you down.”

“Oh, yes, because _that_ is easy to digest, uh?” Stiles shook his head and fell down on the floor again, head on his knees. “I’m not sure how he could take it. And I don’t really wanna mess things up between us more than they already are.”

“Buddy, you gotta try or you’ll never know,” Scott told him with a smile as he sat next to him. “You’ll tell him when we get him back, promise me.”

“Yeah, if we ever will.”

 

*

 

When Santa left to go back inside, he told Derek he could stay a little longer with the reindeers if he wanted to. Not too long, or his mother would’ve worried about him.

Derek gave him a sad smile and didn’t leave the stables. He kept on caressing Rudolph’s fur in a sort of relaxing movement and he thought of what Santa had just told him.

Remember. And wake up.

“I was sure I’d heard Stiles’ voice, back there,” he said out loud, talking to himself as one of those crazy men who’d lost their sanity. “You know, Rudolph, I really think it was his voice. It was like he was calling out for me. Man, I’m just losing it, aren’t I?”

Rudolph the Reindeer kept on chewing his food silently, then nuzzled his hand softly and made him smile.

“Thanks, buddy. I’ve always liked you the most, you know? Even if it feels like it was just a dream.”

But maybe it was. A dream. Maybe Santa had really told him to wake up. Could have been. Or could have been something else entirely, for what he knew.

The point was, Derek had been viewing those images in his head all night, and as soon as he’d started remembering Scott and the others it had only gotten worse. There was this feeling inside of him telling him everything was wrong, a feeling he’d been getting every time he’d looked at his mother, or at his father. Or at his whole family.

Like it had felt wrong when he’d met Mr and Mrs Stilinski, and now he knew why. Stiles wasn’t there with them, he was nowhere to be found, as he just didn’t exist. And –

Claudia was alive. But she was dead, wasn’t she? She had died years and years back, from a sickness Stiles was scared he could get too. Stiles had been to the hospital to get tested, Derek remembered that now; he had even gone there to ask Scott about him, to stay there while they waited for any news from the doctors.

Stiles _had_ the same sickness as Claudia. It was called fronto-something dementia, and Derek remembered how he had felt when the doctors had told them. Just like his whole world had come apart in one single instant. Scott, of course, had been the one really affected there, Stiles being his best friend and all, but Derek, oh… he had felt like a piece of him had been just cut out from his insides.

And now Stiles wasn’t there, he didn’t exist, and Derek felt emptied.

“You know, Rudolph, I think I miss him,” he said to the reindeer, and he even realized how stupid it was of him to talk to an animal. “I mean, he’s a mess on so many levels it’s just impossible to get it right, but he’s a good mess. He has saved my life, and I have saved his. He’s sarcasm on legs, and people don’t usually like him, but he’s smart, and even a bit funny sometimes. He drives me mad every time we meet, but at least that makes me feel alive.”

Which was stupid, because Derek didn’t need Stiles to feel alive. He had his family, his amazing parents, his lovely dreadful siblings; they all contributed to fill his days with joy and madness, and he loved it all. He loved them all, so much.

The pain showed up again, right at the centre of his chest. It was a muffled pain, and Derek knew it had always been there – he had just ignored it for most of the time. But it was there, and it hurt, and it made him feel lonely, and empty.

He was missing something, he was missing it so badly it actually hurt.

“What if he’s not real, Rudolph?” Derek asked, and he didn’t realize how scared his voice sounded. “What if Stiles is nothing but a dream? I haven’t seen him around, and I know for sure John and Claudia Stilinski don’t have kids. What if Scott isn’t real, too? And Lydia? Is it possible that I had just dreamt of them, I wonder.”

Of course, it was a possibility. But thinking about Stiles being a product of his imagination felt wrong, so he must’ve been real. If he was, where was he now?

Maybe it wasn’t Stiles the one being in the wrong place. Maybe it was him.

 

*

 

“Der, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. See you later, sis.”

Derek gave Laura a little smile and climbed up the stairs, running to his bedroom. He jumped on his bed with his face on the pillow and tried to clear his mind; his head hurt, and the more he tried to figure out what the hell was going on the more headache he would get.

“Spill it.” Laura entered the room and shut the door behind her. She walked toward the bed and sat at the edge of it, waiting for him to turn and face her. “Spill it, Der. I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s probably nothing,” he said, emerging from the pillow just a tiny bit. He didn’t really want to look at her in the eyes, or she would’ve found out he was lying. She was probably going to find out anyway, but at least he could’ve gained some more time.

“It’s the probably that scares me.”

Derek sighed and rolled on his back. He didn’t dare to look at her, but he knew already the expression painted on her face. She was determined to find out the truth, and ready to achieve her goal no matter what.

“Have you ever heard of Stiles?” he asked all of a sudden. “Stiles Stilinski?”

Laura shook her head no. “Is he related to the Sheriff somehow?”

“He is. He’s his son.”

“What the –“ Laura jumped on her feet, her mouth opened in awe and astonishment; then she sat down again, this time closer. “The Sheriff has a son nobody knows of? How?”

“That’s the point, he doesn’t.”

“Derek, what –“

“Everybody knows Stiles Stilinski is the Sheriff’s son,” Derek explained. He doubted it was going to make sense, but he had at least to try. “And Claudia Stilinski is dead. She died years ago from a disease.”

“Derek, this is not funny, I –“

“I’m not saying it is.” Derek let out a sigh of pure frustration and sat up on the bed, taking his sister’s hands in his. “Laura, _I remember him._ I know him. He is… here, he doesn’t exist. How is that possible?”

“What do you mean, here he doesn’t exist? Der, have you been drinking?”

“No.”

Derek fell back on the bed again and stared at the ceiling. Santa had told him to remember, and now that he was, nothing seemed to make sense anymore. His own sister didn’t believe him – and how could she? The Sheriff was married to Claudia, end of the story. Everybody knew they didn’t have kids. Claudia was alive, and she wasn’t sick.

“How about Scott? Scott McCall?”

“Never heard of him,” Laura quickly replied. “Derek, what the hell is going on with you? Are you feverish? What –“

“I’m fine, Laura, that’s the problem,” he told her. “I was feeling weird yesterday, and today I woke up and I remembered. I remembered Scott, and Lydia, and Allison. And I remembered Stiles. How could you not know him? He knows about you. He – I think he’s even seen you once, before –“

“Before what?”

_Before you got killed by our psychotic uncle Peter._

Laura had come back to Beacon Hills years after they’d left, she’d come back because Peter had called her. He had lured her back in town and brutally slashed her. He had buried her in the ground on the back of the house, hadn’t he? Scott and Stiles had found her body, and they had reported to the police. They had told the Sheriff Derek had been the one to murder his sister, but they had been wrong. There was no way they could know about Peter, of course, but getting Derek in prison hadn’t been a safe move.

“Derek?”

“How do you know if you’re dreaming or you’re awake?”

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Derek sat closer to her and looked her intensively in the eyes, “how can you tell the difference? Sometimes dreams feel so real, maybe I was just dreaming of this guy.”

_Or I was just dreaming of your death. And mom and dad’s too._

His whole family had been killed in a fire, all of them. He and Laura had escaped just because they weren’t home that day, they were at school instead, and Peter, well, he had survived only to live in a hospital for years after that, the empty shell of a broken man.

“Uhm, usually you can pinch yourself very hard,” Laura said with a laugh. “If you’re dreaming, then you’ll wake up. Or… let me think. You can try to pinch your nose and breathe; if you can, you’re definitely dreaming. Then, there’s the ultimate way to find out whether you’re awake or not. Try to fly.”

“Yeah, as if I’m going to jump from the roof.”

“You know, they also say that if you die in a dream, then you wake up in reality,” Laura added, a thoughtful look warping her beautiful features. “Wanna try that one?”

“Yeah, hell, no.” Derek laughed at her and pushed her away, making her fall on the floor. “Now, out. I need some rest from you and this horrible headache I’ve got.”

“Just because it’s Christmas, bro.”

Laura flipped him the bird and ran out of the room in laughter, leaving him alone again.

Santa had told him to remember, and now he remembered all of his family slaughtered and burned. If that truly was his reality, no wonder he had that constant pain in his heart.

But what if it wasn’t? What if Stiles was the dream?

Derek knew that having his family was more important than anything, but somehow he couldn’t just resign himself to the idea of a world free of Stiles. It was weird, and wrong. His family’s death was wrong, too. But it felt real.

 

*

 

“I feel like everything is wrong, and I’m in the wrong place.” Derek sighed, and the shadow of a sad smile stretched his lips. “I know that I’m not supposed to be here, I figured out that much. Only, I don’t know how to come back, and I want to, even if that means I’m gonna lose my family again.”

Rudolph kept on ruminating, not at all distracted by Derek’s words. Of course, Rudolph was just a reindeer, why would it care?

Derek didn’t even feel stupid in talking to animals, anyway – which was wrong, because that’s not something people do all the time. Well, maybe there were people who talked to animals as a habit (like cats, Derek had heard lots of old ladies talking to their cats), but it was different. Maybe.

“I remembered something else,” he talked on and petted Rudolph’s soft fur again. “The preserve. I was in the preserve with Stiles, and then I woke up in the snow. This must be a dream, I know that. It never snows in Beacon Hills, not even on Christmas – and look at the town, all covered in white. Then, Scott isn’t here, and my family’s alive. Stiles doesn’t even _exist_ , for fuck’s sake! This is not real, can’t be.”

“Santa told me to remember, and I am remembering,” Derek said after a while. “I know I must wake up, or I’ll be lost in here forever. I know I must go back. Damn, it’s worse than anything I’ve ever faced so far.”

Yes, because Derek remembered that too. He was a freaking werewolf, almost everyone in his family was, and he had had to deal with a lot of bad things in his life. Kanima, for instance, and other supernatural creatures – Lydia was a Banshee, but luckily for them she was on their side. He had had to fight a pack of goddamn Alphas.

He had killed people, Derek remembered that as well. Not that he had wanted to, but some things just had to be done and he had always been the man to do it. Scott was too young to kill anyone, too innocent; he didn’t deserve to become a killer, to lose his humanity. Derek, on the other hand, had lost hope too long time ago.

Fairies.

He was in the preserve, with Stiles, to catch a bunch of stupid fairies.

Derek remembered their voices, buzzing sounds twisting in a harmonic melody. They were singing, walking through the woods and singing their songs with words nor Derek or Stiles could understand.

They were carrying small lights in their hands, some shiny little objects that seemed to have sparkling surfaces. Derek remembered they smiled at him, at Stiles. The fairies had stopped in front of them and kept on with the singing, and they had reached out their fair hands towards them.

Derek had stepped in front of Stiles so not to let them touch him, and they had smiled again and thrown one of those light bulbs at him. Then, he had woken up in the snow, freezing.

“I know what happened,” he said, looking at the reindeer and jumping on his feet. “Still don’t know how to reverse it, but at least I remember. Thanks, buddy.”

Derek ran out of the stables and headed to the front of the house, where the door was slightly open. He knocked once and pushed it, getting inside and standing in the parlour.

“Santa!” he cried out, a smile on his face. “I know what happened! I –“

“No need to shout, son. Mrs Santa is taking a catnap.”

“Sorry.” Derek laughed as Santa walked to him, and he took his chubby hands in his own. “I know what’s happening, now. But I still need your help.”

“My dear boy,” Santa said and winked at him, leading him to the multi-coloured living room, “that’s what I’m here for.”

Derek watched him fill a couple of glasses with what looked like eggnog and sit down on a big, comfortable chair. He sat on a smaller one right in front of it and gladly accepted the drink; when he sipped it, Derek noticed it was perfectly spiced, with the right amount of alcohol in it.

“So, you figured it all out,” Santa said with a smile. “And tell me, how do you explain it?”

“Well.” Derek thought of everything that had happened once again, and he realized how things seemed to make sense now. “I was in the woods with Stiles. We found the fairies, they did something and I ended up here. I know this is all a dream, I know it’s not my place.”

“And where is your place, son?”

“Back in Beacon Hills,” Derek quickly stated. “In my Beacon Hills, not this Christmas version of it. That’s where I belong.”

“Oh, is it.” Santa drank up his eggnog and filled the glass once again, thoughtfully. “Can you explain what the fairies did to you?”

“It was some sort of spell, I guess.”

Santa nodded. “And can you explain me?”

Derek laughed at that. At first, he had just _believed_ that Santa was real, that he had always been there in Beacon Hills. It had been all part of the dream’s reality, and he had never doubted it for a second. But now, well, now things were different. Santa wasn’t real, never had been, just like Dasher, and Prancer, and Rudolph, and all the reindeers.

“You are me,” Derek said. “Well, part of me. Part of my conscience, really. You’re the one who’s tried to make me remember from day one, you’re the part of me that wants to go back.”

“Well done,” smiled Santa. “And how about your family?”

“They’re the part of me who wants to stay,” Derek let out in a low sigh. “When I talked to Laura, she didn’t believe a word I said. She’s the part of my who doesn’t want to leave this place, because here my family’s still alive. I don’t blame her, really. I know I don’t want to leave them again, not now that I have found them. But I have to, don’t I? I have to go back.”

“Have or want?”

Derek opened his mouth to reply, but he closed it again. Sure, he didn’t want to let his family go, but he knew it was the _right_ thing to do. He had to go back, the guys needed him to be there for them.

Bus was he compelled to go? If he hadn’t come back, they would’ve found a way to get on without him. He wasn’t indispensable to them.

Truth was, he needed them.

He couldn’t even think of a life without Stiles’ babblings, not anymore.

“I want to,” he said in a low voice. “I want to go back. I need to go back.”

“Oh,” Santa smiled again, a big bright smile, “And why is that?”

“Because –“

 

*

 

“Do you think there’s something in there that can help us?” Stiles asked. He bit his lower lip and tasted the metallic savour of blood in his mouth. Lydia shrugged.

“Don’t know, maybe.”

She started leafing through the pages, looking for anything that might get them more information about those stupid fairies. Stiles felt his heart beating like a drum in his chest, pounding so hard it felt like it was just going to carve a hole and get out right through it. Even Scott looked anxious, his eyes fixed on Lydia with apprehension.

“Where the hell is Deaton, anyway?” Stiles asked, and he sat on the floor again. He knew he wasn’t gonna sit for long, he was too agitated to stay still at the moment. “He should’ve been here _hours_ ago.”

“He was out of town, I told you that,” Scott replied. “It’s gonna take him a while to get here. He’ll come.”

“’m not so sure anymore,” Stiles said. He rested his head against the sofa where Derek still laid, unconscious, and he inadvertently brushed his cheek against his hand. He missed him, that was the truth. He missed Derek badly, he even missed his shouting and barking; he missed all of him.

“Wake up,” Stiles whispered to Derek’s ear, “please, wake up. I will tell you everything, I promise, just… wake up, Derek. I miss you.”

“Well, I’ve missed you too.”

Stiles startled and jumped on the spot, falling backwards with his back to the floor.

“You –“ he said, but he found out his voice was stuck in his throat. Derek was back, he was awake again. “You are –“

Stiles shook his head, not even caring of the presence of Lydia and Scott in the room. He crawled back to the sofa and took Derek’s sleepy face in his hands, looking right into his eyes.

“You are a damn idiot, that’s what you are,” he said harshly. “You could’ve died, d’you know that?! You could’ve – oh, God, I hate you so much.”

“Yeah, I hate you too, Stilinski,” Derek said in a husky voice. He smiled and kissed him softly on the lips. He had never thought Stiles’ lips would be so cracked, he had always thought it to be soft instead. Oh, well.

“What the –“

“You’re not gonna believe what absurd dream I had, I promise I’ll tell you as soon as I wake up completely” Derek laughed. He waved his hands to Lydia and Scott and tilted his head at them, as if to tell them everything was alright. “But you go first, I believe I’ve heard you say something about telling me everything?”

“Asshole.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too.”

Derek smiled and kissed him again, a bit more passionately this time. He was finally back, and he had made it only because of Stiles; missing Stiles had made him realize how much he actually cared, and according to Santa that was all he needed to wake up.

Stupid fairies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

_“Stupid humans.”_

_“They know nothing, do they?”_

_All the fairies shook their heads no._

_“A kiss would have done it, don’t they ever read fairy-tales?”_

_“Maybe they don’t. They are pretty ignorant, aren’t they?”_

_A buzzing consent rose from the small crowd. All the fairies knew humans weren’t exactly brilliant, but they had thought that at least they’d known the old stories. Apparently, they didn’t._

_“Well, our work here is done,” the Queen said with a smile. “Now, let’s find others star-crossed lovers to help. This world seems to be full of them.”_

_With a happy buzzing chant, all the fairies left Beacon Hills, California, to their next destination. Love had triumphed again, and all was well._

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
